


Binding Phantasos

by whiteroses77



Series: Anteros [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Smallville
Genre: Brainwashing, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-12 15:05:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5670271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteroses77/pseuds/whiteroses77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 4 of the Anteros Series. Darkseid has returned to Earth, and he knows one person stands in his way, so his minions are going to try and restrain Earth’s hope, will they be able to change what has already been fated so many years before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Anteros II, Terra Firma, Terra Incognita, and as such will be more satisfying if you have read the other stories in the series first.
> 
> Set later in their lives together than went before.

TITLE: Binding Phantasos 1  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (whiterose)  
RATING: Anyone  
WORD COUNT: 2,837  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Darkseid has returned to Earth, and he knows one person stands in his way, so his minions are going to try and restrain Earth’s hope, will they be able to change what has already been fated so many years before.  
Author’s note: sequel to Anteros II, Terra Firma, Terra Incognita, and as such will be more satisfying if you have read the other stories in the series first.

~B~

The usually blue sky was full of flying objects. Just as the ordinary citizens of the United States arrived at work that morning, the preliminary battalion of parademons had swarmed in blotting out the blue. Now the countries of the Earth’s air forces were up there fighting side by side. They had finally agreed on who the real enemy was instead of fighting each other.

Also up there was the flying superheroes of the Earth and some of the supervillains too. Those villains up there wanted to dominate their particular spot of Earth themselves not be subservient to an alien new god. 

Every powered person who had even the slightest connection to the League had come to the rallying call. Batman and Wonder Woman had laid out their hastily thought out strategies in the crowded conference room on the Watchtower and everyone agreed to play his or her part. However, he could feel the undercurrent of how uneasy everyone was, not because of the fight ahead, that was a given but it was the absence amongst their ranks that concerned them the most. 

Where was the one they all had faith in, the one who while he was by their side they had faith that they could accomplish anything, because he believed in them. 

Where was Superman? 

That was the question aimed at him, in trepidation, and in some cases anger as if they were delusional enough to think he would abandon them by choice. Batman didn’t know the answer but in the chaos enveloping the Earth, he had given himself the task of finding out. 

When he’d told the conference room full of people that, some of them had even accused him of wasting time, that he should not be wasting time going to look for one person in the middle of this chaos, Batman should be trying to find the most powerful strongest fucking weapon on Earth to bring here to defend them. Batman snarled at the uncomprehending idiots, “That’s what I’m going to do.” before walking away.

Before he reached the hanger where the Batwing was, he was halted as he heard a chorus of voices and footsteps following him. He turned around to find four pairs of blue eyes belonging to four very different raven haired youths. He bowed his head and sighed, “I’ve given everyone assignments already.”

Nightwing replied, “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t need my help.”

Batman’s mouth kicked up for a second, “You’re needed out there.”

“Are you sure?”

The figure standing next to Nightwing scorned, “Of course he’s sure Dickie bird, isn’t it about time you flew the nest by now?”

Angered, Dick broke his persona and sneered, “Screw you Jason, what are you doing here anyway?”

Batman groaned under his breath as the inevitable quarrels began.

Jason stretched out his arms and mocked, “I belong to the home of waifs and wayward boys don’t I?” 

Red Robin said stoically, “You were until you decided to ignore what Batman and Superman believe in.”

The prodigal ‘son’ who hadn’t completed the journey home yet, defended, “Still doesn’t mean I don’t care about Clark…” Uncomfortable with the sentiments he was expressing, he added smirking, “Besides it’s always good to know you’re on Daddy S’s voice recognition speed dial in case you need a crowbar turning into a paperweight.”

The remaining young hero who hadn’t spoken yet ran his fingers through his hair with agitation as he harrumphed, “If anyone should be helping to find Clark it’s me.”

Batman smiled grimly and then approached him, he pointed a leather clad finger at the red symbol on his chest, he spoke quietly, “This shield right here, is why you can’t come with me Conner, until I find him, you’re the symbol of hope, you’re the shield, let everyone see you out there Superboy.”

Conner nodded along, understanding that’s exactly what Clark would say to him if he could, he exhaled shakily, “Got it.”

He stepped back, and said to all the boys, “I need you all out there.”

“Even me Bruce?”

He snorted, “Yeah even you, when its war it’s no holds barred.”

Jason smiled slowly, fiercely. 

Dick admonished, “That doesn’t give you a free ticket to go crazy.”

“Oh shut up, that was the problem coming in to replace you, Saint Richard, the problem is you never pissed off, just hanged around annoying the hell outta me.”

Batman pronounced, “No one was replaced, Jay.”

“One big happy family.” Jason crooned snidely.

Conner rolled his eyes, “If anyone needed replacing it were you.”

Jason glanced from Conner to Tim, “You think he replaced me… like hell…”

Tim shook his head at the arguing, and announced, “Well I’m going to rendezvous with my team and…”

Batman nodded, and abruptly turned and continued to the hanger. He could hear the bickering until they realised he’d gone, and then faintly he heard Nightwing saying, “Come on let’s get to work.” 

Conner said, “I hope Clark’s okay.”

“Yeah.” The three others sighed in agreement.

Internally he shook his head, the squabbling just then reminded him of Christmas, when Clark always insisted everyone came home for the holiday. Although Alfred suffered wearily, once Martha arrived, the young men found their inner boys, and were respectful of the grandmother figure. He was gratified that the young heroes’ affection for Clark could still bring them together. He was grateful for their support but they really were needed in the fight.

He entered the Batwing and headed down to start his search.

~*~

From the ground, through his binoculars Batman strained his eyes trying to see which of his teammates were up there, and how the battle was faring.

As far as Batman was concerned, without Superman being there by his side he might as well burn along with the rest of the world. Under the material of his gauntlet, his wrist itched. Unconsciously he tried to scratch it through the black leather.

His mind stayed on his goal. But where the hell was he?

He started somewhere obvious…

~S~

Clark awoke slowly. He could hear the birds singing outside his bedroom window. He was warm and snug under the covers. He opened his eyes and gazed across the pillows. The sunlight made the bedroom glow and a light breeze ruffled the gingham curtain. The smile of adoration stretched his lips and shone from his eyes at the elven features framed by long tresses that he saw before him. As if sensing his wakefulness, she blinked opened her eyes and smiled contentedly seeing him. Even awakening from her slumber, her eyes were bright. Clark reached out and he caressed her cheek. With his voice roughened from sleep, he asked gently with a touch of awe, “How are you so perfect?”

Lana’s nose crinkled adorably as she laughed at the compliment, “Lots of practise.”

Clark smiled and leaned in and kissed his wife softly while caressing her bare shoulder with his thumb. The kiss deepened a moment before they heard Mom call up the stairs, “Time to get up. Breakfast is nearly ready.”

They both sighed at the disruption; they never seemed to get much time alone without distractions, first in their dorm rooms and now here at home on the farm. They got up out of bed and got ready to face the day ahead. 

~*~

He buttoned up the last button of his blue plaid shirt, and left Lana getting dressed and putting her make up on and went downstairs. He entered the kitchen to the smell of sausage, bacon and eggs, and pancakes. His mom was putting out the breakfast and she glanced up as he entered. She raised a brow but didn’t say anything. Clark noticed and asked wonderingly, “What is it Mom?”

His mom shrugged and continued with the breakfast. Clark continued to gaze at her wonderingly, then the backdoor opened and his dad entered, and went and washed his hands in the sink, he smiled when he saw him and jibed, “Morning sleepyhead.” 

Clark glanced at the kitchen clock and winced realising that he had slept in and then glanced at his mom again, and then he asked, “Is that what the problem is, Mom?”

“What problem?” Jonathan asked as he dried his hands on a towel.

Martha sighed, “Nothing… it’s just… it’s okay I know what it’s like coming to live in this house and trying to fit in, especially with your mother-in-law.”

Clark ran his hand through his hair and cringed, “So it’s Lana you’ve got a problem with?”

His dad tried to smooth things over, “No son, we love having you and your wife living here with us, one happy family under the same roof, don’t we Martha.”

His mom smiled tightly, “Yes sweetheart, as I said it took me a while to get along with Jonathan’s mom too.”

He sighed. He understood all that but it was hard to hear it, when all you wanted was the people you love to get along. Lana had been really accommodating agreeing to live here with his folks when they got married after finishing college. He reassured his mom, “I’m sure everything will turn out right, just give her some time. You’ve always like Lana, haven’t you?”

His mom nodded and shrugged again. His dad patted him on the shoulder, “Of course we do, Son.”

Clark smiled feeling reassured, “Okay let’s get this food eaten and then we can get some work done today, eh Dad?”

As they pitched in and prepared the table, Lana arrived downstairs and Clark reflexively smiled when he saw her, looking so pretty in one of her summer dresses. She smiled back and then greeted, “Good morning everybody.” Then she noticed them preparing the table. She rushed over and took the plate of pancakes, and the syrup, “Let me help with that.”

Martha smiled, “Thank you Lana.”

As Lana carried them over, Clark caught his mom’s eye and smiled encouragingly and his mom smiled reassuringly back. 

They ate their breakfast, and Clark and his dad talked about their jobs for the day. Lana sipped her coffee and said cheerily, “I think I’m going to take Donatello to the pond and back today.”

Clark caught his mom’s subtle scowl. He took a breath and asked, “What are you doing today Mom?”

His mom sighed lightly, “Well first is the washing up, and then the laundry, then making lunch, then after lunch, your dad and I have to go into town and then when we get back I have to clean out the chicken coop, and then…”

He suggested, “Maybe you could help Mom, and going riding later, Lana.”

Lana frowned slightly, her rosebud mouth pinching in displeasure at the thought of it but then she saw the encouraging look in his eyes, and she shrugged, “Okay…” she chuckled, “The chicken coop can’t be any worse than mucking out Donatello’s stall.”

All the members of the Kent family laughed along.

After breakfast, as Clark and his dad went outside to work, Lana went upstairs to change out of her dress and into her jeans.

~*~

Later in the day, the sun was high in the sky, as Jonathan Kent pulled the tractor up, turned down the throttle, and then jumped down. Clark uncoupled the harrow from the tractor. As he straightened up, his dad was looking up, taking note of the sun’s position in the sky, and said, “Lunch time I think.”

“Sounds good, Dad.” Clark wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his work glove covered hand, “I hope Lana and Mom are getting along.”

His dad reached out and cupped his shoulder, “You’ve got to remember Son that the farming way of life isn’t for everyone. I’m sure the Kent women will rub along together just fine.”

He said, “I hope so; Lana agreed to move here to make me happy after all.”

Dad nodded along, “It was the same with your mom when we got hitched, and it was harder for her, city life in Metropolis and country life in Smallville is totally different, at least Lana grew up around here…”

“A mile away my whole life.”

“That’s right, Son. She knows how things work around here.”

Clark smiled at the guidance from his father.

Jonathan gazed out at the Kent land, and said wistfully, “It our land, it’s been in the Kent family for generations, but I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d wanted more, chose to do something different. You’re young and the world’s your oyster, you could do anything you put your mind to.”

Clark admitted, “I considered it, Dad, but being here with you and Mom, working with you every day, and having Lana is… I couldn’t imagine a better life than this.”

His dad patted his shoulder and then pulled him into a full-fledged hug, “As long as you’re happy Son, then I’m happy.”

“I am Dad.” He replied hugging him back.

~*~

As he and his dad returned to the yard, coming in for their lunch. He saw his wife mucking out her horse’s stall. He motioned to his wife and his dad waved him off and continued to the house. He grinned as he walked over, removing his work gloves and then he teased, “Finished the chicken coop already?”

Lana turned around and scowled, with her hands on her hips, “Yes, and thank you for volunteering my services, Mr Kent.”

He chuckled and he wrapped his arms around her petite figure, “It’s the kind of thing you’re going to have to get used to if you’re going to be a farmer’s wife, Mrs Kent.”

Lana raised her pretty face and grinned, “Mrs Kent, I like the sound of that.”

He grinned in return, but said seriously, “The other Mrs Kent could really use your help around the house, share the responsibilities.”

His pretty bride sucked in a breath and then nodded, “Got it, Mr Kent.”

“Thank you.” he said sincerely.

He gazed down at her perfect face, and he caressed the wispy loose hairs at her temples that had escaped her ponytail and then he caressed her cheeks. He whispered to her, “You know this is my perfect life, Lana.”

She gazed lovingly at him, her cheeks dimpling. He leaned down and his lips met Lana’s, his wife hummed and slowly opened her mouth for him.

Suddenly from out of the darkness of Donatello’s stall, leathery wings flapped. Lana screamed as a bat flew around their heads and she flapped her hands in fright. “Get it away.” she cried.

Clark knew screaming wouldn’t help. Bats were only scary if they had a target, be unthreatening to them and they were generally harmless to you. So he pulled her in and held her close, holding her head against his chest, and he stilled her and then eventually after a minute the bat flew off. 

He cooed to Lana, “It’s gone, it’s gone.”

She calmed down. She caught her breath. She lifted her head from his chest, and confirmed, “I’m okay now.”

“You want to go in the house?” he suggested.

Rosy cheeked, and appearing embarrassed, she said, “Yeah I think I’ll go make a chamomile tea, might help me calm down.”

She slipped out of his arms and set off towards the farmhouse. Clark was thoughtful a moment and then entered the stall to make sure there wasn’t a colony of them in there. In the dark shadows of the stall, he found no other. Clark kind of felt sad for the little fella. He pinched his lips together at the thought of the bat being all alone.

His wrist itched a little, and Clark gave it a scratch as he crossed the yard to the house.

~B~

Batman climbed through the window of the deserted lab, he stealthily made his way down the hall and into the observation room. Through the mirrored windows, he found a group of people and the brightly dressed target for his hunt. His teammate was strapped to the lab table. His eyes were open but he gazed at the ceiling, no reaction to what was going on around him. Granny Goodness was scowling, and ordering, “Keep him under, our lord won’t be happy when he gets here and Kal-El isn’t subdued.”

The figure that had physical contact with Superman grimaced and his arm shook with tension, and he warned, “I don’t know how he’s doing it but he’s fighting it.”

 

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

TITLE: Binding Phantasos 2  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 2,928  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Clark is still trapped inside his perfect fantasy world on the farm.

~S~

The sun was shining and life was good for the Kent family. It was later after lunch and his mom and dad were on their way to town in the red pickup truck. Clark was finishing off a chore as they left, but he hoping he and Lana could enjoy the rare alone time. So after his mom and dad had set off, he left his work as soon as he could, and then he entered the kitchen through the back door. He silently gazed at his wife from the doorway. She had removed her work clothes and was back wearing the pretty white and pink summer dress as she did the washing up. He snuck up behind her in the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her petite frame, she giggled, and leaned back against him, and asked, “What are you up to?” 

He leaned in and kissed her neck. He murmured, “It’s been so long since we could be alone without the fear of being heard.” 

Lana teased, “Any chance you can install sound proofing in our bedroom without your parents knowing?”

He spun her around, swooped down, and sweetly kissed her. She moaned softly, and stretched up and looped her arms around his neck, leaning her whole body against him. He groaned in desire as the kiss turned hungry fast. He grasped her hips, and lifted her up and she smiled into his mouth, as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He set off carrying her and ascended the stairs two by two. 

He took her to their bedroom, and laid them both on their bed. He admitted huskily, “I’ve been waiting for this all day.”

She eagerly reached for his shirt buttons and Clark helped her get him out of it. He tossed the discarded shirt on the floor. Eagerly she dragged him back to her and kissed him. He pulled back and gazed at her with heat and tenderness. Slowly, he cupped her breast through the thin material of her summer dress. She pressed against him with desire, her peaked nipple showing through the fabric. He swallowed hard at seeing that look in her eyes and then he gently hooked the thin strap of her summer dress with one finger and pulled it down, he tugged further and the gentle swell of her breast was revealed. He used his thumb gently teasing the nipple until it peaked even harder. He met his sweet loves gaze and then he leaned in and covered her peaked flesh with his lips. Her frame so slight almost her whole breast disappeared into his mouth. Lana cried softly and threaded her fingers through his hair. 

He sucked at her gently before opening his eyes, and his gaze found her eyes and he saw desire there. She mouthed the word almost silently, “Please.”

He smiled knowingly and then released the other breast, and then wrapped his lips around her again. She writhed against him, and then wrapped her smooth slim legs around his waist. He moaned around her breast and he rubbed his denim trapped crotch against her. Lana whimpered softly, and grasped his head and held on, as he rubbed and sucked. She cried plaintively, “Please Clark, I need you.”

Under the rucked up fabric of her summer dress, he found the fabric’s edge with his fingertips and moved her panties to the side. Clark groaned loudly feeling the wetness already there for him and the promise of her soft velvet heat, and he pressed his fingers inside.

Lana moaned desperately, “Clark.”

Clark’s erection strained his jeans hearing that turned on noise coming from his sweet country girl.

She gasped and grasped his wrist and she held him inside her wet heat, he felt his wrist twinge where she held him. He hissed and Lana asked worriedly, “What’s the matter?”

He frowned and he rubbed his left wrist with his right hand, it wasn’t really hurting, it was more of a throbbing and annoyance. “Did you hurt yourself working?” she asked with concern.

It was a strange thing but at this very moment in time, it wasn’t enough to worry him. He told his wife, “It’s nothing.” 

Turned on as she was, her concerns were quelled, and eagerly she reached for his waistband, and his zipper. She released his aching length.

Suddenly, the dog barking outside caught his attention. He frowned. He was an alert dog but he was a good boy, he never yapped at nothing. He had to check to see if there was a problem. So gently, Clark asked her, “Wait a minute.”

He lifted off her, and went to the window and looked out. Out in the yard, he saw a dark haired guy; he was carrying a backpack over his shoulder. Clark sighed, disappointed that his afternoon delight with his wife was ruined. He reached for his erection and he struggled but managed to put himself away and zipped up his jeans. He grabbed his plaid shirt from the floor, and went downstairs.

As he went outside onto the porch, the wooden boards creaked. The unkempt dark haired guy in his yard turned around, and saw him and walked over. Clark slipped his shirt on over his shoulders. He saw the guy notice his unbuttoned shirt and then the guy said, “Sorry if I disturbed you.”

Clark buttoned up his shirt, he lied politely, “It’s okay, what can I do for you?”

He saw the guy’s gaze lower and he realised with embarrassment that the bulge at his crotch was clearly visible. The guy stared at his crotch a little too long for it to be appropriate and then he licked his lips and then glanced away. 

In his still hard and ready state of arousal, and although he was dishevelled and rugged looking, Clark tried not to notice how good looking this guy actually was. The thought surprised him. He cleared his throat, saying gravelly, “So who are you?”

Suddenly the dog began yapping again and Clark glanced over his shoulder and scolded, “Stop it Ace.”

The German shepherd whined and then sat down chastised. The dark haired guy glanced at the dog and then back and revealed, “My name’s Bruce, I’m passing through Smallville. I met Mr Kent in town and he said he had some work going for a few weeks and to come along.”

Dad had mentioned something about another hand, it was hard work sometimes just the two of them but… well he’d ask him about it when he got home. Clark smiled politely, “By the way, I’m Clark it was my dad you talked to. It’s our family farm, we run the place together.”

Bruce offered his hand, “It’s nice to meet you Clark.”

Clark smiled and took the drifter’s hand. As their hands met, Clark felt the strength of his grasp. He felt something else, a sense of déjà vu which was crazy because he’d never met the man before. He shrugged the feeling off and said, “Okay, come in the kitchen and I’ll make a drink while we wait for my dad to get back.” 

He began walking and Bruce followed, but out the corner of his eye, he saw his wife crossing the yard, she was redressed for riding and going over to the stables. He said to Bruce, “Just wait here a minute.”

He crossed to the stable and found Lana just as she was about to start preparing Donatello to go for a ride. He crossed his arms across his chest and teased, “You ran out on me.”

Lana smiled and nodded, “You were distracted. Who’s that guy?”

He shrugged, and explained, “Dad met him in town and hired him as a farmhand.” 

Her nose crinkled, “It’s going to be weird having someone else here isn’t it?”

“Even harder for us to find some alone time.” he replied.

Lana chuckled, “A little frustrated huh?”

He grumbled, “You can say that again.”

She laughed gently at him. “You’ve got company so I’m going for a different kind of ride.” 

He nodded with understanding.

Riding her horse always put Lana in a relaxed mood. They both needed to work off some tension but it looked as though he was going to have to wait until bedtime now. He offered, “Do you need any help?”

Lana shook her head, “I’ll be fine, I’m used to it.”

He turned around and found the ruggedly handsome drifter standing on the porch, gazing across the yard at him. Their gazes met, and Clark felt something unknown tighten up inside him.

He patted Donatello’s flank and then walked on over to the porch to their new farm hand. As he approached, the guy reached out and patted Ace’s head. The dog raised his furry head, and gazed up at Bruce devotedly with soft chocolate eyes. Clark smiled and commented, “When you first arrived I thought he didn’t like you.”

“He was being a good guard dog that’s all, weren’t you boy?” He ruffled Ace’s ears. Ace’s long tongue lolled out happily. His companion turned away from the dog and smiled at him. 

He felt something flutter inside him seeing that smile, and he shook himself and said, “Come with me.”

He led him to a bedroom. 

~*~

The drifter put his backpack down on the bed, and then he groaned lightly as he rotated the shoulder that the bag had been on for who knew how long. 

“I’ll let you settle in.” Clark told him.

Bruce nodded, “Sounds good. I guess you don’t have anything going on at the moment jobwise.” 

Then his eyes travelled down Clark’s body, coming to rest on his crotch again. His gaze lingered at the bulge that hadn’t entirely gone down yet from his interrupted tryst with his wife. Clark licked his lips nervously at the appraisal. Clark smiled hesitantly, “I think my dad will have something for you to do when he gets back from town.” 

His still aroused cock was making it hard to think, and this man’s focus made him feel quite edgy. Clark went downstairs and hoped the drifter would keep his distance from him until his folks and Lana got home.

~*~

When mom and dad returned from town, Clark met them in the driveway. As they approached the house, he said to his dad discreetly, “You didn’t say you were going out to hire someone, Dad.”

Jonathan nodded, and patted his shoulder, “I know we only talked about it Son, but Bruce just appeared out of nowhere needing a job and I thought it must be fate.”

~*~

His dad, Clark, and Bruce spent the rest of the day working together on the farm, and it was going well. Once his passion had cooled, his worries about the drifter had dissipated too and it was nice having someone to chat to during work other than his dad, but it was really off-putting at the same time, nothing was quite the same as before. In the space of a few hours everything had changed, it was no longer just a family affair, but in some ways it seemed right having Bruce there being part of their lives. He was quiet but he worked hard and somehow fitted in.

~*~

Later in the day after most of the work was done, Dad offered the use of the shower, being on the road for so long none of them knew the last time that Bruce had use of one. Bruce accepted the offer and went up for a shower first. As he left the barn, Clark and his dad put the tools away. Bruce went up while Mom and Lana were cooking the dinner.

Jonathan commented, “Seems like a nice guy, huh Clark. I didn’t make such a bad decision after all.”

Fondly, Clark smiled and agreed, “You’re right Dad, he seems okay to me.” 

As Clark came into the kitchen, he heard his mom ask Lana, “Did you put the clean towels out in the bathroom, dear?”

Clark’s wife cringed, and shrugged, “No, I forgot, sorry.”

Mom appeared fondly frustrated at her daughter-in-law. Then she turned to Clark, “Go and take Bruce a towel, sweetheart.”

Clark breathed deeply, and hesitated. Clark’s own inappropriate feelings for the drifter earlier made him uneasy. It was amazing how an aroused cock could skewer your thinking. 

He wasn’t even gay. 

His mom urged, “Go on.”

He sighed internally and then he grabbed the towels from the laundry room and went upstairs. As he got to the bathroom door, he could hear the shower running. He thought about how small Bruce’s backpack was. He didn’t know if Bruce had a clean shirt to put on after his shower or for tomorrow even. He detoured to his bedroom and got him a shirt. Then he returned to the landing. He hesitated at the door. He couldn’t hear any running water now, so then, he knocked. 

He heard Bruce call, “Yeah?”

Clark opened the door ajar slightly, “I’ve brought you some towels.”

From inside steam emanated, and the fragrance from the body wash filled the air, then the door was opened fully. The man standing before him was already clean, and refreshed and most obviously completely naked. Bruce said, “Thanks.” 

Clark asked surprised, “You’ve finished already?”

“I’m used to economical bathing.” Bruce said wryly.

He tried not to, he really did, but his gaze slipped down from his already admired handsome face. Down his strong muscled chest, beaded with droplets of water and then lower still… 

With a smirk on his lips, Bruce turned around again and with no embarrassment, he walked naked over to the sink. As Clark gazed at his muscled back and saw his toned, curved, bare ass. Clark’s gaze followed him and he licked his lips with desire. Goddam he had an incredible body.

He found this man could so easy ignite in him something unsuspected, something… dangerous. 

Clark glanced at the open door and down the hall, for decency’s sake, in case his mom or Lana came up, he stepped in and closed the bathroom door.

Bruce looked at him in the mirror’s reflection, as he combed his wet hair with his fingers but didn’t say anything. Clark cleared his throat and wondered, “Do you want to shave?”

The drifter smiled at him through the reflection, and then rubbed his stubbly cheek, “You prefer clean shaven?”

Clark’s brow creased, and he chuckled, “I…I just meant you might… um I think I’ve got a new safety razor in the…” he approached and reached past Bruce into the bathroom cabinet, and produced the brand new razor.

He handed him the razor, then he realised how close he’d put himself into Bruce’s personal space again, into his naked personal space. He breathed in deeply, there was intoxicating scent coming off him that had nothing to do with the Kent family’s usual shampoo and body wash, something decidedly more expensive smelling. Without thinking off the implications he murmured, “You smell gorgeous.”

Bruce murmured in return through the reflection, “Do I?”

He felt a shiver go through at that tone, and he shook his head and told a half truth, “I mean… what did you use, I mean that’s not our soap.”

“Must be natural.”

Clark laughed softly, “Yeah right.”

He asked, “What do you have there?”

At first Clark thought, he was talking about the bulge forming at his crotch but then blushingly he realised he meant the maroon and black plaid shirt in his hand. He chuckled self-consciously, and offered it, “I brought you a shirt. I didn’t know if you had any clean ones.”

Bruce turned around in the small space between Clark and the sink. “That was very nice of you.” 

“My mom or Lana could do your laundry tomorrow, while we’re… um working with my dad.”

He raised an eyebrow at the plaid and said, “Plaid has never been my style.” Clark glanced down and shrugged feeling kind of humble, he didn’t have that much to choose from in his closet. Then Bruce murmured, “You look good in it though.”

Flustered Clark nodded, “Thanks.”

Bruce asked huskily, “Are you going to have your shower right now?”

“No, I’ll have one just before bed.” he deferred with the smile in his voice and on his lips

This dark haired stranger and motioned past him to the shower, “Nothing like running water; it washes away all kinds of sins.”

He swallowed hard, and wondered, “Sins…?”

“Like adultery.”

He whispered, “I’d never do that.”

“You better not either.” Bruce warned in a whisper.

Clark was thrown into confusion, as his wrist began throbbing again. He stared at Bruce. Suddenly nothing in his perfect life was making sense anymore. He didn’t know if he was going crazy or Bruce was.

“I better get going.” He stuttered, “I… I’ll see you… um… I’ll see you downstairs for dinner.”

Then he made excuses and left the bathroom as fast as he could, scooting past him, it had always been his way to meet challenges head on, but his family felt like a sanctuary right now, though he knew he couldn’t hide from a man living in his house. But what was he hiding from, a stranger’s – a man’s unwanted attention or was he hiding from his own feelings and desires.

 

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

TITLE: Binding Phantasos 3  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 3,157  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: The world is in chaos and Superman is still trapped inside his own head.

~S~

As Bruce made his way back into the kitchen from the stairs, Clark breathed uneasily, as he recalled the oddness of their conversation in the bathroom. His hair was damp and already drying naturally and Clark noticed Bruce was wearing Clark’s plaid shirt that he had lent him. Although Bruce had said plaid wasn’t his style, Clark thought he looked quite nice in it. 

He mentally shook his head at himself for those thoughts.

As she put the evening meal out for the five of them tonight, his mom called out dinner was ready. As they ate their evening meal, Bruce complimented, “This is really great food Mrs Kent…” then he glanced at Lana, “…and Mrs Kent.”

Jonathan, Martha, and Lana laughed in good humour. Martha saying, “Thank you Bruce.”

As they continued to eat, Clark found his gaze on the drifter sitting at their dining table. Finally, Bruce glanced up and caught him looking. He gave him a smile. Clark reflexively smiled back. Then he glanced around feeling conspicuous, and saw no one other than Bruce was looking his way. Clark shuffled in his seat, and tried to act naturally and asked, “So um Bruce, have you been travelling for long or…?”

The drifter nodded as he cut into his food, “Set off to find some meaning in my life, I’ve been all over the world.”

Impressed, Lana grinned, “Wow that must’ve been exciting?”

Bruce smiled at the pretty country girl in return, “It had its moments.” he met Clark’s gaze and asked, “You ever been around the world Clark?”

He shook his head and reached out and took Lana’s hand in his, glanced around at his folks and said wistfully, “I’ve got everything I need right here.”

The drifter shrugged, “I can see that, it’s a really nice place you’ve got here.”

Jonathan smiled around the table at his family and nodded proudly, “Thanks.” 

Bruce smiled earnestly, “It’s really lovely here; Mr Kent. I can imagine growing old in a place just like this.”

For a second, Clark was mesmerised by his smile. He winced internally. Shit, this was so wrong. He had a lovely wife just over there, a couple of feet away and… he ducked his head, why was he thinking these thoughts. 

Why did the idea of growing old with him here seem somehow right?

~*~

Later in the evening, everyone else was inside but Clark was sitting on the porch swing outside enjoying the last light of the day, and a light breeze. The porch creaked, and Clark turned and saw the drifter there, carrying two glasses. Bruce said, “You mind if I join you?”

Even though he’d been having some strange reactions to this man being in his home, he wasn’t uncomfortable around him, quite the opposite and that was the scary thing. He nodded, “Of course.”

Bruce approached and offered a glass. Clark accepted it. Then Bruce joined him sitting on the swing. They sat there together drinking lemonade. Bruce nudged Clark’s leg with his knee, “Your folks have been really welcoming.” 

He gazed out at the farm from the porch. Clark smiled, “Well it’s nice having you here.” He swallowed at his own words. Ace padded up, and sat down next to the swing and Bruce reached out and patted him. He almost felt jealous that his own family dog was choosing to sit next to Bruce and not him. Why did it feel so comfortable sitting here with this complete stranger, he wondered, even the dog was entirely too comfortable with him too. Clark tried to ignore his own feelings and he asked casually, “So um… are you, are you staying for long or…?” 

Bruce eyed him, and then shrugged at him, and took a sip out of his glass. 

Clark didn’t even know which answer he wanted to hear. He sighed heavily, and pushed a little. “I mean… you’re travelling the world aren’t you, or are you on your way home now or…?” he took a swig of lemonade to stop himself rambling.

“Maybe I’ve found what I’m looking for.” Bruce replied.

He swallowed the mouthful of lemonade, he didn’t turn his way and asked, “Really…?”

Without looking at him, Bruce began rocking and making them swing, and asked him, “Have you ever considered a life away from the farm, Clark?” 

Clark frowned, disconcerted by the question. “No…” he glanced at the door where his family were. If he had in the past, it didn’t matter now, he was married and happy here. He had everything he ever wanted.

Bruce returned his gaze to him and prodded some more, “Never wanted something in your life that got your blood pumping, something stimulating.”

Reflexively, he chuckled, “Stimulating…?”

The rugged drifter leaned in slightly, and murmured, “Maybe something kinda dangerous?” 

“Dangerous…?” he asked licking his lips.

He saw the gleam in Bruce’s eyes, the provocation there. Clark licked his lips again with apprehension and unanticipated building arousal. 

Mom called, “Come on in for your coffee you two.” 

He snorted out a relieved breath that he didn’t have to answer that question. As they got up and went inside, Clark was thankful for the distraction.

~*~

The family enjoyed the evening, the women had gone to bed early, but the men stayed up and watched a game on the TV while having a beer, with Jonathan and Bruce discussing the merits of the teams. Clark found himself watching the man who had somehow sneaked into their lives, his life. He observed as Bruce and his dad bickered about the finer points, and laughed and chinked their beer bottles together when they agreed on something, and Clark smiled seeing them getting along so well. Bruce happened to catch him looking. He was way too observant for his own good was that man. Bruce asked wryly, “What are you smiling about?”

He shrugged, “Just you two.”

Bruce grinned, “I love your dad, Clark.”

Jonathan belly-laughed, and put his arm around Bruce’s shoulder and patted it, “You’re not so bad yourself Son.”

Something touched Clark deep inside, he didn’t know what it was, but he swallowed hard at the feeling. He didn’t know if it was because he’d been travelling the world alone or not, but Clark sensed Bruce hadn’t had someone to watch a game with in a long time. For some reason he wanted to make sure he was never alone again. Being overwhelmed by the pangs his own heart had been producing since Bruce turned up on his door step, certainly wasn’t a new experience anymore, but he couldn’t let himself believe it was okay to feel them. He nodded along and smiled tightly, “I think I’ll go up to bed.”

The other men waved him off, and continued watching the game.

~*~

Lana was already in bed when Clark came in; he didn’t bother turning the light on and slipped out of his clothes in the dark. He watched her through the dusky light, watched her shadowy figure, her head laid against the pillows, her eyes closed, he saw that she had slipped a nightie on for bed. She opened her eyes as he approach the bed and slipped in. He settled in, and met her gaze. Clark breathed roughly and then leaned in and kissed her bare shoulder. She sighed in response. He asked her softly, “Have you been waiting for me to come to bed?”

He caressed her cheek, he kissed her lips, she responded slowly. Then he slipped his hand down, under her nightie pulling it up, he slowly slipped between her thighs. She felt his erection already for her, and she groaned against his lips, and pulled away, gasping, “Clark… we can’t…”

He groaned in arousal and he rolled them over on the bed. Lana sat up, and straddled him in her favourite position; it was more than the horse that Lana enjoyed riding, and he loved it too. She smiled down playfully and haughtily, and he reached for her hips and pulled her down against it. She moaned softly and writhed. Clark felt that twinge at his wrist again. He winced slightly and Lana asked, “Something wrong?”

Maybe he had banged it while working and didn’t even realise it. He shook it off just as before, “No, I’m alright.”

He reached out for her again but Lana laughed quietly, “We can’t, god it was bad enough trying to keep quiet when it was just your parents down the hall, but now we’ve got someone in the next room.”

He didn’t like the idea of holding back and keeping quiet, he definitely didn’t like the idea of the drifter who had already put him on edge hearing him in the throes of passion, but… he chuckled hollowly, “He’s still downstairs…”

“He could still come up… during.”

“I really need you…”

Lana moved off him, and said, “I mean it, Clark… not like this.” 

He let out a frustrated breath, and stared at the ceiling.

~*~

The following day the sun was beating down on them; it felt like the sun’s entire focus was on the Kent farm. Bruce wiped the sweat from his forehead with his borrowed plaid shirtsleeve, and over his face. Clark himself was sweating buckets, and eventually he groaned and stopped work, he grabbed the hem of his dirt stained red t-shirt and pulled it off over his head. He bunched it up and he used it to wipe at his sweaty body, around his neck and his torso. As he did so, Clark found he was being stared at, attentive eyes were on the athletic body that was on display near him; Clark caught his gaze and they stared at each other intensely for a long moment and he thought he saw desire there. 

They were clearing a dead tree that had fallen over; they’d dragged it with the tractor over to the barn. Now his dad had the bench saw running, ready to cut the larger branches and trunk into smaller lengths for firewood and he called around the corner, “Are you two ready with that wood yet?”

They broke away from their unnamed connection and Clark shook his head at himself. Then they grabbed the long length of a thick branch at each end and they carried it around the barn and over to the saw. As the saw blitzed the wood, it didn’t take long for Clark standing there sticky skinned and shirtless to end up with sawdust sticking to him. Clark tried to rub off the wood dust without success and Bruce laughed at his attempts. Clark rolled his eyes at his mirth. 

Without thinking, when Bruce stepped forward, and around him, and began running his hands over his shoulders and back, trying to help get it off, he let him. But when he ran his hands down Clark’s chest and abdomen, and Clark felt the pleasure of his unfamiliar hands touching the planes of his muscles, he realised the inappropriateness of it. Bruce’s fingertips lingered near his waistband of his jeans, and Clark turned to look over his shoulder at him. He met and held his gaze. He saw Bruce’s nostrils flare. Clark felt the sensation of him standing too close to him; he knew Bruce’s crotch was an inch away from own his denim covered ass.

Shyly, Clark shook his head; he gently grasped and lifted his hands away from his muscular torso, “I don’t think you’re helping.”

Oblivious to what was going on between them, Dad said, “Come on guys let’s get this work done.”

Afterwards, Clark went back to the house for a quick shower. Sweating so much and getting covered in sawdust had made him start to itch, and Clark thought he needed one if only to give him a reason to put a shirt back on. Dad and Bruce carried on working.

~*~

In the shower, he thought about how Lana was putting him off at night, too worried about being heard by Bruce or her in-laws. His mind turned to the incident outside, how he had used his shirt for a sweat mop. He chastised himself, since Bruce had arrived, he had been getting vibes off Bruce, stripping off in front of him wasn’t going to help, in fact it had only encouraged him. He remembered the feel of the drifter’s very male hands on his body. His cock twitched to life at the memory. 

He wanted to relieve the tension in his body but he couldn’t allow himself to touch himself thinking of someone who wasn’t his wife. He braced his hands against the white tiled wall and let the hot water cascade over him.

He finished up and got out the shower. As he dried himself with the towel, the bathroom door swung open slowly. Clark breathed deeply feeling unnerved, feeling his presence, and then he looked over his shoulder and met Bruce’s gaze and Clark’s eyelashes involuntarily fluttered at that hungry focus directed at his nude body.

He didn’t know what Bruce’s end game was but he didn’t want to show his unease, didn’t want this man to know he was getting under his skin. He tried for nonchalance, “I think I got all the sawdust out of my hair…” Clark purposefully turned around and showed Bruce his naked back. “Did I get it? Do I look alright?”

His words came out huskily, “Yeah… you look… great.” He murmured, “I would’ve come and helped if you’d asked.”

He turned to look at him, blushing slightly at the teasing. 

Bruce smiled slowly at him.

Clark said as confidently as he could manage, “Very funny.”

He turned away and wrapped the towel around his waist as casually as he could.

“You didn’t say no.” was the soft accusation.

He glanced back and met intense eyes. 

Clark wasn’t sure if he joking or… he turned around fully… the look in his eyes wasn’t joking. He licked his lips nervously, and smiled blushingly. “I’m married… um you know that’s my wife downstairs…”

Bruce stepped forward closer into Clark’s personal space. He backed away a step, he really didn’t know if he was joking or not, and truthfully, he really didn’t want to know. 

He snorted and past him as he left the bathroom and then went down to his and his wife’s bedroom so he could redress.

~*~

His mind was confused, his body strung tightly, he just needed something to make everything in his life make sense again. Lana… she was the one that made his life make sense. Redressed, he went downstairs, but she wasn’t in sight. He asked his mom, “Do you know where Lana is at the moment, Mom?”

“In the laundry room I think sweetie.” His mom told him.

He nodded, and then headed for the laundry room. He opened the door and entered to find his wife bending over, filling the washing machine. He groaned softly, seeing her sweet butt sticking out invitingly. He closed the door, and then he reached out and pulled her back against him. Lana let out a small cry of surprise at being grabbed. 

He reached for and caressed her long hair with his fingers, he teased the hair away from her neck, and then he kissed it hungrily. She arched back with a groan. He whispered hoarsely, “I need you baby.” 

Clark reached down, and gathered the hem of her dress up and dragged it up her thighs. He hooked her panties and dragged them down. She squirmed in response, “Not here.”

He begged huskily in her ear, “Let me.”

She stopped squirming and breathed heavily. 

“Lana?”

She turned her head, and met his gaze, and then she kissed him. He moaned into her mouth at the unspoken consent, and he unzipped his jeans. His thick length sprang out. He reached for her hips ready to enter her; his wrist began aching again but not as much as his cock was aching to be inside her. 

She breathed steadily, as she reached back and took hold of his cock and guided it to her heat. She whispered into his mouth, “Slowly.”

He swallowed hard, “I know.” He never wanted to hurt his beautiful…

Suddenly the laundry room door opened, and they were discovered. Bruce narrowed his gaze and said, “I thought I heard you call my name.”

He almost sneered at the interruption. “No you didn’t.”

Bruce gazed passed him to Lana, and Lana’s face creased, and coloured with mortification, and she pulled away, her dressed falling back into place to hide her modesty. The same couldn’t be said for Clark as he was bared for scrutiny. He gritted his teeth with frustration, as he zipped up his jeans. Bruce was still watching on, a glimmer of something in his eyes, part lust, part triumph. Clark shoved past him, and left the house. 

As he got past the yard, he realised Bruce was hot on his heels. “Clark!”

He turned around and accused, “Are you doing this on purpose?”

Bruce rolled his eyes, “Doing what, cock blocking you?”

“Yeah, roll your eyes, but ever since you arrived here I haven’t…”

“You haven’t…”

Clark deplored, “What do you want from me?”

Bruce stepped into his personal space and reflexively Clark gravitated towards him. He breathed harshly, as Bruce murmured, “The question really is, what do you want from me?”

He gazed at his lips, and he swayed forward, Bruce leaned in to close the gap between their lips, felt his breath. Clark’s heart shuddered in his chest, and he pulled away before their lips touched.

He swallowed hard, and whispered, “I can’t I’m sorry.”

He dragged himself away and walked away.

~B~

The black armour clad superhero recognised most of the group holding his teammate prisoner; they all had skills in brainwashing and hypnotism, and were loyal to Darkseid, they had been part of his entourage the last time Darkseid came to Earth. Granny Goodness glared at her partners-in-terror, “You told me you had found his weakness, his perfect fantasy. You said you could lock him inside his own mind and he wouldn’t even know he wanted to escape.”

“I did but…” said the one whose attempt was failing. 

“Did we release you from the Phantom Zone for nothing?”

Batman watched on, he couldn’t make a move, not as long as the Phantom Zone convict was touching Superman, or while he was trapped in an illusion. He knew the crucial element was saving Superman without destroying his memories or losing his true self. But the Zoner was still arguing with the rest, his mind not focused. His hand still lingered on Superman even though his mind was distracted by Granny’s anger.

 

To be continued


	4. Chapter 4

TITLE: Binding Phantasos 4  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 3,002  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Clark’s perfect fantasy is not working out as well as the minion had hoped, so how are they going to keep him subdued. 

~B~

Although Superman hadn’t broken the hold of this perfect fantasy, whatever it was supposed to be, Desaad interrupted, “Except the problem with perfect fantasies is that they’re too good to be true, it’s passion that overrides all, sex is the answer.”

The perfect fantasy inducer, moved away breaking the connection as Desaad turned his gaze on Superman’s prone form, and the other’s stepped back with expectation.

~S~

Her laughter sounded like bells jingling. She tossed her head back and her raven mane bounced around her bare and graceful shoulders. She turned away from the starry view outside the conference room window, “I might not know about the customs of this modern world, but I know all about pleasure Kal-El.”

Superman approached her and he gently cupped her jaw with his palm. He looked deep into her eyes, “Let me show you the pleasure only a man can give you, Diana.”

Her laughter was swallowed down, and she gazed at him nervously, “You are the most beautiful of men, however I’m not allowed to submit to a man.”

He smiled softly, and he caressed her lips with his thumb, “I don’t want you to submit to me…” he caressed her bare shoulders, “I want to worship you, Goddess.”

She watched him enthralled as he lowered himself to his knees, then he kissed her sweetly angled knee above her red and white boot, and then her strong powerful inner thigh, then he kissed the blue spangled material covering…

Diana cupped his head, and raised his face to her and asked, “Is this really your deepest desire?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

She smiled, “Are you sure, if I…” she lifted her golden lasso from her belt, “If I use this, will the answer still be yes?”

He nodded earnestly, and he held out his hands. She looped the golden truth telling lasso around his wrists. “Do you want me more than anything, Kal-El? Am I your passion?” she asked.

He tried to answer but his reply was choked off as he was overwhelmed by pain and his left wrist throbbed. He looked up at her in startled dismay.

Suddenly, he was hauled off his feet, and he was dragged, manhandled past the amazon princess and he found himself face first on the conference table. One black gloved restraining hand held his head against the desk, and the other braced against the table top beside his head. Then next to his ear came a growled, “What do you think you’re doing, Clark?”

~B~

Superman opened dazed eyes, “I don’t know.” 

Desaad swore, “As the humans say, un… fucking …believable…”

Granny Goodness urged, “Try again!”

~S~

There was nothing but the clicking of keystrokes and then, “You do realise Smallville, that going off and working on stories on your own never pays off.”

He glanced up from his computer screen, adjusted his glasses and asked, “Is that right, so why is it okay for you to do it and not me?”

Lois smirked, “I don’t really need a partner, because I’m the best reporter in the city of course.”

He squinted, “Of course.”

“Of course I am, ask Perry, if it came down to one of my stories going on the front page or one of yours, who do you think he’d choose?”

He asked snidely, “In this hypothetical scenario, is your story about Superman?”

She grinned goadingly, “Are you jealous?”

“Jealous?” he asked flabbergasted.

“That I get all his stories.”

He snorted, “You know why you get all the stories, Lois.”

Lois nodded, “Because you’re too much of a goody-two-shoes use them for yourself.”

He shook his head.

“Going to admit I’m right?” she poked.

He tutted and then he sighed, anything for a peaceful life. “Okay you’re right.”

She bit her bottom lip and Clark watched it bounce teasingly back into place. 

She chuckled, “You’re so easy Smallville.” 

Then smugly Lois sat back in her chair. Clark watched as the fabric of her cerise coloured blouse stretched over her full breasts. 

His beautiful desk mate saw his attention and laughed teasingly, “Oh Smallville, really?”

He tensed his jaw at her disregard, and he stood up from his side of their double desk. As he set off towards her, Lois’s eyes widened and she jumped up from her chair. With her hands on her hips, she demanded, “What do you think you’re going to…”

He cut her off, pulling her into his arms, and then he took her sweet sassy mouth hard. She stilled for a second, and then she relaxed into his arms, opened her mouth for him, moaning softly, her full breasts crushed against him and her fingers went into his hair, and grazed his scalp. He kissed her passionately, and reached down and caught the edge of her skirt and he drew it up her long smooth legs, and he walked her backwards and he laid her across their double desk.

He reached between her thighs and tore her panties away. She gasped in response to the bold move. Then Lois panted into his mouth, and her hands scrambled at his belt. His hands joined hers and they released his erection together. 

Her hands grasped at his shoulders, her legs cradled him, and her sweet wet pussy welcomed him, as he thrust his way inside her. Her body clung to him, and she whimpered breathily, “Oh Smallville.”

He loved hearing her say it that way. He caressed her lips, and she gazed at him speechlessly, she reached up, wrapped her hand around his wrist, and kissed his fingertips. 

The pain in his wrist made him pull his hand away, and Lois looked concerned, “Clark what is it?” 

He stared down at her, her chest was heaving, it was mesmerising. He shook his head and denied, “It’s nothing.” Then he kissed her again, and then he buried his face in her cleavage, and began thrusting into her wet heat.

Then suddenly the office door opened and Steve Lombard stuck his head inside the office, “Kent…” he stopped and stared at the sight before him, and then he leered, “Well that answers that.”

Frustrated and embarrassed, Clark pushed his askew glasses back into place and sneered, “Tell me what you want and then get out.”

Lombard chuckled, even as he continued to gawp. “I just came to tell you, Bruce Wayne’s downstairs and he’s looking for his wife.” 

~B~

Superman jerked awake again as he again fought off the illusion, Godfrey laughed aloud, Desaad glowered at him, Desaad turned away and paced. He was angry; he looked like he wanted to punch a wall. 

Prideful of his own abilities but worried about being banished back into the Zone, wanting to prove himself the criminal declared, “Sex isn’t enough to hold someone as strong willed as him.”

Godfrey chuckled, “You claim to be an expert, but you were failing too.”

“It was working better than his attempts.” He motioned towards Desaad. 

Desaad sneered in distain.

The fugitive demanded, “Kal-El banished me back to the Zone, I want my revenge. Let me continue what I started.”

However, Granny Goodness agreed, “Try again, and make it work this time.”

~S~

The following days, Clark spent them fighting himself. Part of him wanted to have Bruce sent away, out of their lives, but that would be a selfish decision, Dad would lose the farmhand, Bruce would lose his job, and all because Clark couldn’t control his own desires, because he couldn’t stop wanting the strange drifter who had turned up on their doorstep. Sexually frustrated was what he was. He couldn’t think straight, and wasn’t that just completely apt, Lana had been his first love, his only love, the only one he ever wanted, but from the moment he saw him he hadn’t been able to look away.

For his own part, Bruce hadn’t taken his rejection badly; he had acted as if every day was just another day. 

Clark, Jonathan, and Bruce were toiling in the yard, when the pickup truck pulled into the driveway. Martha and Lana had been to town for some groceries and to do whatever it is that women do when they get out on their own. The men glanced up as the truck pulled up. Jonathan wiped his brow and called, "Got everything you needed Sweetheart?"

Martha’s smile was oddly proud, as she glanced at her daughter-in-law, "We got more than we bargained for that’s for sure."

The men frowned at each other in puzzlement, and Lana approached Clark with a nervous smile on her lips, "Clark can we go inside and..." she chuckled lightly. 

Jonathan cajoled, "What's this about?"

Mom shushed her husband, but Clark frowned and asked softly, "What is it Lana?"

Lana swallowed hard and then she whispered, although everyone could still hear, "I've just got back from the doctor’s office; I’m pregnant, we're going to have a baby Clark."

A wall of emotion hit him, his heart pounded, and of its own accord a smile stretched across his face, ear to ear. He wrapped his wife in his embrace and he picked her up and spun them around. Lana's laughter filled the open space of the farmyard, "I guess you're happy about it then?"

He declared, "Never been happier."

As he put his wife down again, over her shoulder he caught sight of the man who had made him doubt his happiness, made him doubt his perfect life. Bruce held his gaze as Jonathan hugged the mother of his grandchild. As Jonathan released her, Bruce broke their gaze and he leaned in and he kissed Lana on the cheek, "Congratulations, Mrs Kent."

Clark watched on as Lana smiled blushingly, "Thank you Bruce."

Then Bruce turned to Clark and offered his hand, "Congratulations Clark."

For the first time Clark noticed that, Bruce had a tattoo encircling his left wrist, just a simple silver line. It was strange because that was the exact same place Clark’s wrist kept hurting. He breathed deeply, and he took the offered hand, "Thanks..." the other man jerked Clark forward into an embrace and hugged him. 

Clark’s body trembled; pressed chest to chest with him, he felt his muscle, and smelled his scent. He quavered inside knowing no matter how perfect his life was supposed to be, this man could make him feel lost and found all at the same time, that his pregnant wife didn't change a damned thing. 

He disgusted himself.

He pulled back, and then he watched his oblivious happy family head for the farmhouse to celebrate the incredible news.

As they entered and disappeared inside, Clark bowed his head forlornly.

"Let's go for a walk." His lone companion suggested.

Clark just stood there in a daze until a strong hand reached out and took his and led him towards the meadow. As they headed towards the lush green grass, Bruce whistled and Ace left the porch and joined them for their walk. Clark knew he should let go of his hand, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

~*~

They walked in silence, until Bruce murmured, "Great news."

Clark snorted softly.

His companion spoke wryly, "C'mon don't tell me you've never imagined a little black haired boy running around your feet."

He smiled begrudgingly, "Maybe."

"I think you'll be an incredible dad, Clark."

He cringed and confessed softly, "I always wanted to be, like my dad.” He confided, “I always thought that if we had a boy I’d give him Jonathan as a middle name."

"Thomas."

He glanced to his side, "What?"

"My dad was called Thomas."

Clark laughed and played along, "Okay, we have Jonathan Thomas as middle names..."

"What about his last name?"

He teased, "Kent of course."

Bruce nodded along, "How about Wayne for his first name?"

"So he'd be Wayne Jonathan Thomas Kent?"

"And he'd love you just as much as you love your dad, as much as I loved mine."

"Impossible..." he nudged him with his arm, "What about you, your kids would be black haired blue eyed boys too."

Bruce smirked, "I don't know how I’d deal with a baby."

Clark laughed softly, "Maybe you could wait and adopt them when they’re older."

"Teenaged angst I don't know about that either."

Just then, Ace caught sight of a rabbit, and went haring over the meadow to try to catch it. Bruce whistled, and Ace stopped in his tracks pricked his ears up, took one last look at the rabbit, and then came bounding back over to them. Clark chuckled, "I bet you could handle those teenagers if you trained them as well as you've trained my dog."

When Ace arrived back, he circled around walking closely to Clark so he could reach out and stroke him but then he took up position walking at the side of Bruce. Clark joked, "Did I say my dog."

Bruce's eyes widened and then he appeared bashful, "He's just a really good boy." Ace glanced up, hearing the praise, and Bruce smiled and fussed his head, "and smart too." 

Clark gazed down at his unfaithful dog and shook his head, and grinned. 

"I wish I could take you with me when I leave, take you home with me." Bruce murmured.

Clark snickered, and then glanced up and found Bruce was gazing at him softly and not the dog. Clark's chest rose and fell; he turned away from those soft intense eyes, and kept on walking, trying to hide from his own feelings. 

~*~

In the kitchen after finishing up work, Dad was washing his oil stained hands. As he dried them, he watched as his mom and dad came to stand together over by the sink. His mom took a hold of his dad’s hand and he saw her sliding his dad’s wedding ring back on his finger as she always did. Martha joked, “There you go granddad.” Martha and Jonathan smiled tenderly at each other. 

That’s the kind of relationship he had always wanted, Clark thought, a partner in life, someone who turned him on and who was his best friend all at the same time, someone he could share everything with.

Just then, Bruce spoke in his ear, much too close for comfort, “What are they doing?”

Clark felt lightheaded and his eyelashes fluttered, and he spoke gravelly as he explained, “She looks after it when he’s working with machines.”

Still too close, “Does your wife look after yours, Clark?”

He laughed softly at the tickle of his breath next to his ear, “No.” 

Then he glanced down at his ring finger and found it bare. He was startled by the missing ring. Where could it have gone, he couldn’t have lost it. He glanced around in a quandary. Lana returned from setting the dining table and she noticed his anxious actions. She asked, “Is something wrong, Clark?”

Wrong, everything was wrong. 

He didn’t want to admit he’d lost his wedding band. So he hid his hand and with strain, he lied, “No, everything’s fine.”

~*~

That night he slipped into bed next to his wife, and tried to forget how upside down his life had become, it had gone from virtually perfect to… well he didn’t even know the hell what. Having a baby with the love of his life should’ve been the best thing to ever happen to him, but something… something he couldn’t quite grasp meant it wasn’t. 

He was mentally tired and he waited a while but sleep didn’t take him; he just stared at the ceiling. But afterwards when everyone had finally gone to bed and Clark had time alone; he sneaked back downstairs and tried to retrace his steps hoping to find his lost wedding ring. The worse thing was he couldn’t even remember the last time he saw it.

But still he looked. 

He had to find it.

After searching the house, he searched the yard with a flashlight. He didn’t want to contemplate searching the long grass of the meadow. Ace followed him about, taking gusty sniffs of the gravel with his wet black nose. Clark laughed and patted him, “Are you helping me boy or are you just looking for dropped food?”

Suddenly, they both heard a creak of floorboards, and both Clark and Ace’s gaze turned to the porch. Seeing who it was Ace trotted across, and began sniffing Bruce’s pocket. Clark chuckled, “You got a treat in there?”

Playfully, Bruce tilted his head, “Yeah but not for him.”

Clark swallowed hard and pleaded, “Don’t, not again.”

“Why because this time you know you’ll give in.”

He winced. 

“Clark.”

He demanded, “Leave me alone please.”

“I can’t do that.” Bruce replied earnestly.

He was overcome with guilt and nerves, anger and desire, and he stalked across the yard, and he grabbed him, and Clark walked him backwards until he was pressed against the house wall; his mouth hovering over his, wanting to find the answer to this madness in him inside Bruce. Their denim covered crotches pressed against each other; they could feel each other’s arousal. Bruce’s hands ran down his back, before cupping his ass pulling him closer. Clark groaned and stared at his mouth, and reflexively mirrored him, and he grasped his ass through the denim. 

But his lips still didn’t dare touch his.

He breathed heavy breaths, and Bruce gazed at Clark’s mouth with need.

In the tight space between them, he whispered desperately, “When I got married, it meant something and no matter how I feel I can’t… I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He walked away without turning back, he went upstairs to sleep where he belonged, next to the person he’d married, the person he had promised to share the rest of his life, and grow old together with.

 

To be continued


	5. Chapter 5

TITLE: Binding Phantasos 5/5  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce   
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 3,019  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Will Superman manage to break the illusion, and will Batman be able to save him.

~*~

He lay in bed, staring at his bare finger missing his wedding ring. He’d attempted to find it earlier but he’d been side tracked by Bruce. He snorted under his breath, Bruce had side tracked his whole damned life. He knew he had to find his wedding ring regardless of all that.

Eventually, he heard movement on the landing and then a bedroom door opened and closed again. 

Restless he slipped out of bed, put his jeans and his shirt back on, and went downstairs. 

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he became aware of noises, sounds that were soft but loud in the silence of the night. He frowned and followed them to the darkened living room. The fire in the hearth was still lit. He came to a halt at the scene in front of him. It was Bruce, alone, sitting on the couch, eyes closed, bare chested, jeans unfastened, his erect cock in his fist, pumping it slowly. Clark watched entranced as the smooth head appeared and disappeared, entranced as the girth filled his hand. The silver thread around his wrist glinted in the firelight.

Maybe he should feel guilty watching, but right at this moment, he didn’t feel anything but curiosity. 

Then someone spoke, “Are you just going to stand there?"

Clark’s gaze found Bruce’s eyes open now and watching him in return as he continued to pump his cock steadily. He couldn’t find the words to deny how he was feeling; he licked his lips, and admitted, “I can’t do anything else.”

“Maybe, but you want to.” The words weren’t smug just confident… knowing.

Clark gazed him. He winced and asked, his inner turmoil finally spoken aloud, “Why did you have to come here, I was happy.”

“Were you?” spoken archly.

“Yes.”

Bruce gazed at him intensely, “Come over here and do what you want to do.”

He tensed his jaw in annoyance at his arrogance and frustration of his own desires. “I’m married.”

“Yes you are.”

Clark swallowed hard at his tone; it was almost as if Bruce felt like he was the one being betrayed and not Lana. He gazed at him and Bruce began jerking his cock harder and with intent. At the sight of it and sound of it, Clark’s cock flexed in his jeans. He hissed in response as it pressed against his zipper. 

Bruce told him, “Come over here, and I’ll give you what you’re looking for.”

He breathed heavily, “I’m not a cheater.”

Bruce smirked, “I know you’re not. Come over here.”

He’d always loved Lana, wanted her, but he was mesmerised by this man.

Clark’s nostrils flared. Then one foot was in front of the other, and within a few steps, he was looking down at the man who had turned his perfect life upside down. Bruce whispered, “Down here.”

Fighting himself, he lowered himself down to his knees on the floor between Bruce’s spread thighs. Instinctively he leaned in until their lips were a breath apart; Bruce’s hard cock pressed between them, he whispered, “I’m here.”

Bruce’s breath danced about his lips, and Clark hated himself as reflexively he opened his mouth, yearning for a taste of this man. He fought the urge and whispered desperately, “I can’t.”

This man, who was testing his resolve, testing everything Clark believed he stood for, nodded with understanding, “Then don’t just show me.”

“Show you?”

Bruce gazed at him, “Yeah show me.”

Clark pulled back, but held his gaze, and Bruce continued slowly pumping his cock, showing him what he meant. Still kneeling, Clark took a fortifying breath, and then he reached for his shirt buttons and unbuttoned them slowly until it hanged open, baring his chest and abdomen. 

Bruce murmured lowly, “Take it off.”

He slid the shirt from his broad shoulders. He saw Bruce watching him with desire in his eyes, watching the amber light of the fire flickering over his torso. He returned the appraisal and admired his smooth skin, tight over the strong muscles of Bruce’s chest and abdomen, so different from the slight but lovely curves of his wife’s sweet body, but it was beautiful to see. Looking even closer he saw faint slithers of white in the tanned flesh, old scars, but it made no difference he was still beautiful.

He saw Bruce’s eyes linger on Clark’s denim clad crotch, a bulge already trapped there. Even without the words, Clark followed the request. He reached for his jeans button and popped it open and unzipped. His own breathing stuttered, not from nerves or bashfulness, at the moment he felt neither, but because of the look in Bruce’s eyes that told him that he appreciated everything Clark had to show him.

He licked his lips sensually, and ran his own hand down over his tanned chest, down over his toned stomach, down to his belly, and into his waistband. He gazed down and watched as he pulled his own cock free from the confines of his jeans. Then he looked up and gazed at Bruce gazing at his thick hard length.

Bruce murmured, “So hard and so beautiful.”

He felt pride in his manhood. He knew his wife loved to ride it, and he wondered if things were different if Bruce would too. His cock flexed at the thought of it, this strong, confident man moving on his length. 

The man in question murmured the quiet demand, “Show me.”

The laughter of excitement and giddiness escaped Clark, and Bruce smiled, and warned, “Shush.”

Clark’s eyes found the stairs, and his laughter ended, the seriousness of this, this illicitness, they hadn’t even touched but Clark couldn’t lie to himself, what he was doing was wrong, so wrong.

Bruce demanded lowly, “Show me.”

He swallowed hard, even that low tone of his voice was adding to his arousal, and he closed his eyes and he stroked his cock slowly.

“Open your eyes.” He was requested in that tone again.

He groaned, there was no hiding from what he was doing, he opened them and he locked gazes with him, and he pumped his cock more firmly, and as the pleasure built inside him, he rolled his hips and rocked his hard aching flesh through the tight tunnel of his fist. He spat into his hand and used the saliva to ease the stroke. He thrust into it. He yearned for the release that he’d been denied for so long. He moaned and he panted, and overcome, he begged quietly, “Please.”

Then this dark beautiful man answered his plea and was moving off the couch and then he was on his knees on the carpeted floor, face to face with him. Then his mouth was a breath away again. He saw firelight in Bruce’s eyes, and Clark whispered, “Please.”

Bruce’s lips covered his own and Clark’s whole body trembled. He opened his mouth wider, and Bruce’s tongue explored his mouth with slow deliberate licks. Their arms encircled each other, and held each other close. The kiss was warm and passionate, and it felt right. He broke away from his lips, but he didn’t pull away, he could still feel his breath. 

In front of the fire in the living room, bathed in amber light, Clark nervously reached for Bruce’s open plaid shirt, before pushing it from his broad shoulders. Bruce slipped the shirt down his arms and off. 

They looked deep into each other’s eyes, as they pushed each other’s jeans down further.

Clark glanced down between their naked torsos, seeing their matching erections, both their jeans waistbands around their thighs.

Slowly, Bruce reached for Clark’s hands, and pulled them away from his waistband and guided them to Bruce’s ass. Instinctively Clark ran his hands over the swells of muscle. He gently grasped the smooth flesh. Bruce sighed. Even though he couldn’t see, Clark groaned as his grasped and pulled the cheeks of his muscular ass apart. 

Then Bruce’s arms embraced Clark again, and his hands reached down and cupped Clark’s bare ass. The flames from the fire were flickering shadows and light over them. Clark gazed down at their touching bodies.

Bruce reached into his pocket and then he had a little jar in his hand. Clark recognised what it was, he didn’t even know how he’d got the lube, but it didn’t matter.

Clark gazed at him; the enormity of this was making his heart pound. Bruce didn’t speak he just opened the jar. He dipped his fingers in, and then he ran those slick fingers over Clark’s fingers. Clark swallowed hard in reaction. Then he offered his hand. Clark took a shaky breath and then he reached out and took his hand. Then Bruce held his gaze and guided Clark’s fingers down the valley, and down to his asshole. He guided his fingertips right to it. 

Clark took a staggered breath. Bruce moaned softly at the touch to his centre. Clark’s cock, that was hard and ready between them flexed. Bruce closed the gap between them, and brushed his lips against his and requested, “Touch me.”

Clark groaned, and he did as he was asked and he played his fingertip over the tight whorl of flesh, he felt it quiver against his fingertip. He groaned again. It felt sinful but Bruce murmured, “That’s good baby.”

Then Bruce murmured, “Put your finger in.”

He breathed shallowly. Then he hooked his slick finger and he pressed his fingertip against him, against it. Bruce gripped Clark’s forearms, and let out a controlled but sighing breath, and then Clark’s finger breached the yielding flesh. Clark let out an echoing groan as Bruce let him in. He uttered quietly, “It’s so tight, you’re so tight around my finger.”

Bruce smiled knowingly, and then spread his knees slightly, and then he arched against his finger. Then Clark’s finger went deeper. Again, they both groaned. Bruce asked in a breathy voice, “Move it, thrust it.”

His body and mind was becoming overloaded, reflexively his hips thrust forward, and met Bruce’s crotch. Bruce laughed softly, and Clark blushed. This beautiful man shook his head and whispered, “Soon baby.”

Clark swallowed nervously at that promise.

Bruce gathered him to him, so their upper bodies were touching, chest to chest. He kissed Clark’s throat and he urged in his ear, “Finger my ass.” 

Instinct took over, as Clark growled softly, and pressed his fingertip in and out, in and out until his whole finger was going in. Bruce moaned and panted, one hand encircled Clark’s throat and his body undulated against Clark’s. Clark swallowed against his hand, as he was panting too in desire, and he rolled his hips rubbing their erections together, as he fucked this man’s ass with his finger. 

Clark remembered earlier, wondering what it would be like if this man rode him. His body shuddered at the reality of it actually happening that this man wanted him inside him. With that thought, Clark wrapped his arms around his body, and thrust his fingers in deeper and then ground against him, over and over. 

Then Bruce’s teeth were grazing the other side of Clark’s throat, and he was mewling, “Take me, Clark. Take me.”

“Take you?” he asked hoarsely.

Bruce groaned against his jaw. “I want you.” His beautiful drifter turned his head and whispered, “I love you, Clark.”

He bowed and shook his head against Bruce’s bare shoulder, “How can you, you don’t even know me?” he asked.

Bruce was quiet he received no reply.

Clark slowly raised his face, and met his eyes intense with the depth of feeling revealed there. He gazed at him with complete knowledge shining in his eyes. 

That look unnerved Clark, scared him and he pulled away, saying, “I’m sorry I can’t do this.”

Bruce grabbed him, and dragged him back to him and kissed him intensely. He took his mouth and bit the words into his lips, “You’re not leaving me Clark, I won’t let you.”

Clark pulled away again, and he tried to fasten his jeans back up. Feeling so ashamed, he said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let this happen."

Again, Bruce took his mouth hard and intensely. Reflexively, Clark returned it ravenously, his fingers threading through his dark hair and holding on. Clark panted against his lips and the need to be with him overcame everything, senses, ethics, and tender first love.

Clark manhandled him forward and took him down to the carpet, face first in front of the hearth. They were bathed in amber from the fire, with their jeans tangled around their ankles. Bruce pushed himself up to his hands and knees, his biceps flexing in the firelight and Clark saw his glorious ass, saw the sheen of slickness down the valley, and saw that he was ready for him. He grasped his hips, lined himself up to the prepared entrance and then he thrust slowly into this beautiful man’s eager body. 

Bruce moaned quietly at his entrance, but Clark cried out as he entered him, as he clung deliciously to his cock. Bruce pulled himself upright on his knees and his hand came up and covered Clark’s mouth muffling the sound. Then Bruce grinned mischievously at him over his shoulder and shushed, “Quiet as mice.”

He remembered why they had to be quiet, and his brow creased, but before he could dwell on it, Bruce’s mouth was on his, and his body began moving, rocking back on his cock. 

Clark moaned in ecstasy. 

His hands grabbed his hip and his head respectively, his fingers curling in his hair, keeping his panting mouth on his. The hand on Bruce’s hip, then wandered and caressed his solid torso, finally coming to hold Bruce over his chest, and firmly held him back against him. Then Clark gave in fully to his primal desires and he started thrusting into his sweet tight body. 

The flames flickered in the fireplace, almost guttering before catching again and continued to blaze. Still thrusting deeply into him, Bruce jerked his cock fast, the sound of their flesh meeting, mixed in with their heavy breathing, and soft cries. Then Bruce’s ass tightened around Clark’s cock as his come splashed over his hand as he came hard. 

He wanted nothing more than to come and grind up hard into him until he was drained. However, sense did make it through the haze of passion somehow; and when Clark did come he pushed him forward and withdrew from Bruce’s body. His come fell onto Bruce’s lower back and sliding into the valley of his ass cheeks. Then exhausted, Clark slumped forward over him, lightheaded, and sated.

He came back down to earth, barely clothed, on the living room floor, come cooling on his skin, and lying over a body that definitely wasn’t his wife. Bruce was panting still, his forehead pressed to the carpet. Clark felt shame. But at the same time, he was scared to death because he didn’t want to have to go back upstairs to her.

For a crazy second, he considered getting a backpack and joining Bruce on the road. He could travel the world with him, or maybe… he lifted his hand and ran his palm over his face at the crazy thoughts running around inside his head. He didn’t even know if Bruce would want him to come with him. He said he loved him but that was the kind of thing that slipped out people’s mouths in the heat of passion, didn’t mean he meant it. They didn’t even know each other. He stared at his bare ring finger and remembered the reason for this late night excursion. 

Bruce raised his head from the carpet and asked quietly, “What are you thinking?”

He didn’t know what he was thinking. He sidestepped everything. “I’ve got to find my wedding ring.” 

It was a cowardly thing to do but he went, and left Bruce to clean up alone and then he set about finding the missing wedding band. 

He headed for the barn, where they had been working today. He was almost livid; somehow, the ring itself was becoming increasingly more important than the relationship it was supposed to represent, the one he had broken his covenant on. As he searched the sawdust covered floor, Bruce stepped out of the darkness. He hadn’t even heard him come in.

Clark gazed at him intensely. 

Then Bruce repeated what he had said to him before, this time earnestly, “Come over here, and I’ll give you what you’re looking for.”

He cringed, and admitted wretchedly, “Suddenly, you are everything I didn’t know I was looking for but I need to find my ring.”

He watched as Bruce shoved his hand into his jeans pocket and brought something out, and he showed it to him. It was a platinum band encircled by tiny diamonds, even in the dim light it sparkled. Clark blinked as he stared at it, and recognised it, “That’s my wedding ring.” he breathed.

Intense eyes were gazing into his soul, and then he said solemnly, “I’ve been looking after it for you, Sweetheart.”

Clark gazed at him in confusion, but slowly the truth emerged from the darkness. “Oh no.”

Bruce gazed at him tenderly with sympathy and Clark slowly approached him and reached up and he caressed Bruce’s face, and then he threaded his fingers into his hair and he brought his lips to his.

~*~

Superman jerked to consciousness, and called out softly, “B?”

Batman’s chest heaved in response to that plea from his husband, and he whispered, “I’m here Sweetheart.”

Granny Goodness let out a roar of annoyance and the villains began to bicker. Batman didn’t know what exactly they were trying to do but he waited for the right time to go into action... 

 

The end of Binding Phantasos but the story continues in the next part of the Anteros series.


End file.
